


king sized passenger side (let's ride)

by oddeyejinsol



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, jinsol drives a blue car, jiwoo has a fat crush, just shameless fluff, rideshare au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 01:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20498678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddeyejinsol/pseuds/oddeyejinsol
Summary: Jiwoo knows she has a tendency to over-romanticize. Still, it doesn’t help when life gives you the perfect opportunity. When Jinsol rolls up to her curb every morning in her shiny blue car, it really feels like she’s Jiwoo’s knight in shining armor, saving her from the ordeal of having to take public transport.





	king sized passenger side (let's ride)

**Author's Note:**

> started writing this a billion years ago for chuusoul goddess marina and im just now finishing!! enjoy this fwp (fluff without plot) and remember to never get in a stranger's car xoxo

Living with your two best friends definitely has its perks, Jiwoo thinks. Jungeun always keeps the apartment sparkling clean, Heejin cooks for Jiwoo when she can’t bear to watch her eat cup noodles any longer, and of course there’s all the fun activities: slumber parties, movie nights, makeovers … basically, it’s as idyllic as she thought it would be.

Except for one little thing: living with Jiwoo 24/7 means that one’s capacity to listen to her whining is very, very limited. So when Jiwoo walks into the house, tossing her backpack to the floor and dropping to the couch with a dramatic sigh, she’s met with complete silence from Jungeun, who’s focused (or at least pretending to focus) on some homework.

Heejin, at least, takes some pity on her. “Hey, how was your first day?” she asks kindly.

Jiwoo huffs, her bangs flying up comically. “Awful!” she complains. “I mean, it was fine, but the train ride, what a nightmare! It’s a two hour ride each way, meaning I literally spent more time getting there than the duration of the actual class. And of course it’s prime rush hours, so it was so crowded and gross and there was a half hour delay … ugh, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“So don’t,” Jungeun mutters, dodging Jiwoo’s responding poke without even looking up.

“You knew the commute was gonna suck when you accepted your admission,” Heejin points out. “You said it was worth it though, cause it’s your dream school, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jiwoo grumbles. “I just wish I had a car. It would be  _ so  _ much faster and more comfortable.”

“You could Uber?” Heejin suggests.

“You’ve seen the state of our pantry, what makes you think I can afford that?” Jiwoo asks, incredulous. “Besides, it’s an unethical company and I refuse to support it.”

Heejin blinks. “Lyft?”

“Oh my god.” Jungeun throws her papers down. “Jiwoo, give me your phone. I’ll install this rideshare app for you — you can find people going in the same direction as you and split the fare for gas and stuff. It’s way cheaper than a taxi app, probably cheaper than the train, in the long run.”

Jiwoo bounces in her seat while Jungeun types away at her phone. “Thank you, Jungie!”

“You’re welcome,” Jungeun sighs with the weariness of someone twice her age. “At this point I would literally buy you a car if it meant you’d shut up and let me finish these questions in peace.”

“Love you too!” Jiwoo sings, unfazed. Just the thought of not having to wake up tomorrow at the crack of ass to catch the smelly crowded train has her feeling much better, and the rest of the night passes fairly soundly despite Jungeun’s crankiness. 

It’s not until the next morning when she’s waiting for her ride that she begins to worry. She’s betraying the number one rule of her childhood: never get into a stranger’s car. Also, there’s nothing to identify the person she’s been matched with other than the model of their car and their license plate. What if they’re creepy? Or old? Or — God forbid — a morning person?! 

She decides to just suck it up in the end, since there’s only one person going in the same direction as her at this time of the morning and the car is already five minutes away, as the map tells her. She makes sure to pack herself a proper lunch and text Jungeun the license plate number just in case she gets kidnapped, and then a loud  _ beep  _ from the app tells her that her ride is waiting for her downstairs.

The car is the same model and plate she expected but it’s … blue. A bright blue, almost too loud in the misty early morning. Jiwoo blinks, checks again although she knows it must be the one, and approaches the passenger seat. 

In all honesty, she’s expecting some middle aged man on his way to work or something, which wouldn’t be  _ terrible  _ but would definitely be awkward. Instead, she gets the only option that could possibly be more awkward: a really,  _ really  _ cute girl. She’s dressed down in an open flannel over a graphic tee and her blonde hair tucked into a hat, but somehow that just makes her all the more attractive to Jiwoo. 

“Hi?” the girl asks, and Jiwoo realizes she’s been standing in front of the open passenger door like an idiot. She flushes brightly, her brain not used to having to work this early in the morning, and slides into the seat hurriedly.

“Hi, sorry!” she squeaks, fumbling with her seatbelt. “This is my first time, hah. Using this app, I mean.” The girl just laughs in response and Jiwoo is sure her cheeks must be on fire at this point. She decides she hates pretty girls and their ability to have her tongue-tied in seconds.

“It’s mine too,” the girl admits, starting to drive again now that Jiwoo is buckled in. “I just thought since I’m making the drive anyway, I might as well see if I can pick someone up on the way, you know? Saving the environment and all.”

“Absolutely! I love the environment,” Jiwoo says, immediately wanting to slap herself at how vapid that sounds. “I mean, yes, carpooling is an excellent way to reduce one’s carbon footprint.” Of course her  _ real  _ reasoning behind using the app is a lot more selfish, but this beautiful, environmentally-conscious girl doesn’t have to know that.

She nods approvingly. “You’re very right about that, um … sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Ah, where are my manners! I’m Jiwoo.” She extends a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Jiwoo. I’m Jinsol. I’d love to shake your hand, but … 10 and 2 at all times,” she says apologetically, nodding to her hands on the wheel.

Jiwoo withdraws her hand quickly, feeling the blush that had  _ just  _ started to fade come back with a vengeance. “Right, road safety!” she laughs. “I wouldn’t want you to get in an accident on your first ride.”

“Yeah, who would drive you back then?” Jinsol says with a smile. 

“Oh, planning a second ride already?” Jiwoo giggles, physically unable to stop flirting. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“I mean, I kind of do,” Jinsol points out. “You put the college as your intended destination, right?”

Jiwoo smacks her forehead. “Of course. That seems a little unfair, though, doesn’t it? I have no idea where  _ you’re  _ going.” 

Jinsol’s returning smile is playful. “What if it’s a secret?”

“Oh no, that doesn’t sound promising. You could be headed into the forest to chop me up with an axe, for all I know.”

“I mean, that would probably be better than going to class, right?” Jinsol says, and Jiwoo gives a surprised little laugh.  _ Shit, she’s funny _ .

“So you must be a student, right?” Jiwoo guesses. “No one else feels so strongly about class, although I can’t say you’re wrong.”

“Ah, you caught me.” Jinsol shakes her head in fake disappointment. “Actually, I’m kind of taking a gap year now. Saving up money to continue my studies.”

“That’s cool,” Jiwoo says with admiration. So she’s a working girl — that’s impressive. She wonders if it’s manual labor, and then of course her eyes drift down to Jinsol’s strong-looking hands and then she  _ quickly  _ has to change her train of thought. “Um, so where do you work?”

Jinsol clicks her teeth. “Sorry, it’s gonna take a couple more rides before you unlock my backstory.”

Jiwoo laughs again, delighted at the goofy grin that spreads across Jinsol’s face when her joke is well-received. The rest of the ride passes in comfortable semi-silence, both of them content to listen to the radio and make absent chatter from time to time. Jiwoo’s glad that Jinsol’s eyes are firmly trained on the road, because it means that she can sneak as many glances as she wants at the gorgeous girl, who looks even cuter when she’s concentrating on driving, her fingers tapping along the steering wheel in time to the songs that come on the radio.

Jiwoo knows driving is faster than taking the train, but she’s still surprised when Jinsol pulls up to the entrance of her college. Perhaps it’s just because she was genuinely enjoying the ride, but for once she doesn’t want it to end. It’s times like these where her propensity for falling in love with every pretty girl she sees is really annoying and inconvenient. 

“Thank you for the ride,” Jiwoo says, unbuckling her seat belt. “Seriously, you saved me like a half hour of sleep this morning.”

“I mean, I should be thanking  _ you _ , since we’re splitting the gas,” Jinsol says with a laugh. “And for keeping me company, too. It gets boring, making this drive almost every day.”

“Well, maybe we can do this again tomorrow morning?” Jiwoo asks, shy all of a sudden. To her relief, Jinsol nods enthusiastically. 

“It’s a date,” she says, her smile blinding, and Jiwoo has to get out of the car and start walking away to hide her goofy grin. 

“Oh, Jiwoo?”

She turns, and Jinsol looks so effortlessly attractive leaning out of the passenger window that Jiwoo almost has to squint. “Yes?”

“When does your class end?”

“2:30… why?”

“If you can stick around for another half hour, I can drive you back,” Jinsol offers. “Free of charge, of course.”

“Sure, I can wait,” Jiwoo says casually, like she wouldn’t be willing to wait for hours on end  _ and  _ literally  pay Jinsol just to get to see her again. 

Class goes better than usual, although she isn’t sure whether that’s because she actually made it to 6 hours of sleep last night or because meeting Jinsol had put an extra pep in her step. Regardless, she’s bouncy and excited when the class is over, phoning Jungeun to tell her about her new encounter while she waits in the parking lot. 

“... and she said she’d pick me up again on the way back for  _ free _ ,” she chatters into the phone, popping her gum. “Isn’t that cute?”

“ _ Or weird _ ,” Jungeun counters, always the glass half-empty to Jiwoo’s half-full. “ _ You don’t know anything about her, Jiwoo. That’s shady. _ ”

“No, she’s nice,” Jiwoo says defensively. “I can just tell she is.”

“ _ Suuuure you can. _ ”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“ _ Just that all a girl has to do is exist and you’ll be doodling her last name all over your notebooks. Forgive me if I don’t trust your judgment. _ ”

“That is not true!” Jiwoo begins hotly, then she spots a familiar blue car cruising down the road. “Oh, here she comes. See you at home love you bye!” She hangs up without waiting for a response, quickly flattening her skirt and tucking her hair behind her ear before Jinsol pulls up beside her. 

“Hi there,” she says brightly, getting into the passenger seat as gracefully as possible. 

“Hey,” Jinsol greets. She’s still wearing the same clothes from this morning, but her hair spills freely from underneath her cap now, tumbling down her shoulders like rays of sunlight. The sight is so beautiful it possesses Jiwoo to reach into her bag, searching for the cookie she has left over from lunch. 

“Here. Since you aren’t charging me for this trip,” Jiwoo says, handing over the plastic-wrapped cookie. She thinks it sounds better than  _ here’s a cookie for being so pretty.  _

Jinsol looks touched. “Thanks, Jiwoo,” she says, readily accepting the cookie. She splits in two and insists that Jiwoo takes the other half, which she does. 

(Sadly, she drops it under her seat when Jinsol casually throws an arm over her seatrest to back up out of the parking lot.)

Even though Jiwoo practically floats into their apartment, her mood drastically improved from the day before, Jungeun still has her doubts. “I’m just saying, how can you be so trusting? That ‘free ride’ wasn’t registered with the app, meaning she could have taken you anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Jiwoo says dreamily. 

“What’s her name? Do you know that, at least?” Jungeun asks.

“Jinsol,” Jiwoo says. She idly wonders what her last name is, then flushes, caught guilty in her own thoughts. Jungeun’s right. She does want to doodle it all over her notebooks.

“Oh! Okay, I actually know her,” Jungeun says, the relief evident in her voice. “I saw her posting about the app on Facebook, that's how I found it. She’s cool. Okay, but just because you got insanely lucky one time doesn’t mean you should just go around hopping into strangers’ cars.”

“Okay, Jungeun!” Jiwoo says, rushing to claim the shower before Jungeun can lecture her any longer. She supposes she understands what Jungeun’s saying, but she’s not an idiot. She obviously wouldn’t have accepted that free ride back if she couldn’t tell that Jinsol was doing it out of pure kindness. Besides, what kind of serial killer cares about carpooling? 

* * *

Jiwoo knows she has a tendency to over-romanticize. She admires people from afar, puts them on a pedestal, then runs when they don’t meet her expectations. She’s well and truly aware of this, and even if she wasn’t, Jungeun has dragged her for it enough times that she has to know. 

Still, it doesn’t help when life gives you the perfect opportunity. When Jinsol rolls up to her curb every morning in her shiny blue car, it really feels like she’s Jiwoo’s knight in shining armor, saving her from the ordeal of having to take public transport.

It’s not  _ every  _ morning — as Jiwoo comes to learn, Jinsol sometimes works the night shift — but it’s certainly enough time spent with her to nurture the hopeless crush Jiwoo’s fostering. It’s the littlest things that get to her, like how Jinsol always asks her if she’s eaten breakfast, or how she brings a CD to play in the car after Jiwoo tells her about her favorite band.

Heejin is much more willing to listen to her talk about Jinsol than Jungeun is. Maybe that’s just because Heejin's found a long-time girlfriend in her high school sweetheart and is therefore a firm believer in love. She nods excitedly along and squeals at all the right places when Jiwoo recounts how her and Jinsol’s fingers touched when they reached for the air-con at the same time.

“You should ask her out!” Heejin says enthusiastically. 

“Uh…” Jiwoo falters. She gets how Heejin would come to that conclusion, but that’s not how Jiwoo operates. She has a tried and true method: crush on someone from afar, fall madly in love with them in her own head, and then let it fizzle out as she inevitably becomes bored and finds someone new to obsess over. The tried and true Kim Jiwoo (patent pending).

Of course, she can’t exactly admit this to Heejin, so she just says, “I don’t even know if she likes girls!”

“She does,” Jungeun calls from the couch.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your homework?” Jiwoo huffs. “Anyway, I’m not going to ask her out because that would make things weird and now that I’ve had a taste of the high life, I can’t go back to the train.”

“So you’re just gonna keep paying her to hang out?” Heejin asks incredulously. “It doesn’t even have to be a date! Don’t you wanna see her somewhere that isn’t a car?”

“I guess,” Jiwoo sighs. “I’ll think about it, okay? Tell me about Hyunjin’s basketball game or something.”

The distraction works perfectly as expected, what with Heejin bursting for any opportunity to gush over her girlfriend. Jiwoo is happy to sit and listen to her rambling, hoping it’ll help her forget the seed of hope that Heejin’s planted in her brain.

Because of  _ course  _ she wants to hang out with Jinsol. Driving is fun, but sometimes she wishes they could go to a cafe or see a movie. Things that normal friends do. (Are they even friends? See, this is why she prefers to just sit on her feelings and never try to figure them out. Labels are confusing.)

Although she promises Heejin she’ll think about it, she doesn’t, of course. Not until Jinsol drops a bomb on her one morning the next week.

“So, I’m gonna be out of town until next Wednesday to see my family,” Jinsol says apologetically. “I’m afraid you’ll have to find another ride.”

“Oh,” Jiwoo says, surprised. “I didn’t know your family lived far away?”

“Well, not that far,” Jinsol amends. “Just a few hours’ drive away. It’ll be super boring, I’m sure, but it’ll be nice to see them.”

Jiwoo hums along, although her mind is totally elsewhere. Firstly, she’s realizing exactly how little she knows about Jinsol. Their chatter is always light, superficial, but she hasn’t realized how impersonal they’ve really been until now. Not only does she not know where Jinsol’s family live, she doesn’t know anything about them — does Jinsol have siblings? Are her grandparents still alive? Jiwoo doesn’t even know her last name.

This, combined with the looming realization that she’s going to have to go an entire week without seeing Jinsol, sends her into a mild tailspin of panic. Heejin’s advice pops into her mind, and without thinking, she blurts out, “do you wanna hang out sometime before then? Tonight, maybe?”

“My friends are throwing a little farewell party at a pub downtown, actually,” Jinsol says.

“Oh.” Jiwoo deflates. “Well. Have fun, then!”

Jinsol snorted. “That was an invitation, genius. You’re one of my friends, aren’t you?”

It’s kind of ridiculous, the effect Jinsol has on her mood, because Jiwoo goes from sulking to beaming in a matter of seconds. “Yeah!” she chimes enthusiastically, ignoring the way that her heart is almost beating out of her chest, because that’s not very friendly, and Jinsol just said that they’re friends.  _ Friends! _

When Jiwoo thinks it can’t get any better, Jinsol suggests that they swap phone numbers so that Jinsol can text her the address and time. Jiwoo resists the urge to save her contact as  _ Mrs. Kim Jiwoo  _ followed by hundreds of heart emojis, but only barely. 

She floats on Cloud 9 for the rest of the day, beyond happy with the progress she’s made. She doesn’t let Heejin hear the end of it, gushing and thanking the girl for her advice until even Heejin, the hopeless romantic, can’t take another second of it. Luckily, Jungeun senses her agony and swoops in to save her, being much more well-versed in the art of dealing with Jiwoo.

“Hey, want me to help you with your makeup?” Jungeun suggests.

Jiwoo’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, I haven’t even thought about that. What am I going to  _ wear _ ?!”

They barely have time to do makeup anyway, since the next couple of hours are spent with Jiwoo waist-deep in her closet, burying Jungeun under mounds of clothes that she keeps tossing out. Jungeun just sits and takes it with the patience that only comes with years of having the most extroverted person on earth as your best friend.

“Gosh, I’m so nervous,” Jiwoo says while trying on the sixth (seventh?) outfit. “I don’t know anyone there except her! What if her friends hate me?”

“Of course they won’t hate you, Jiwoo,” Jungeun says patiently. “You’re adorable.”

“True,” Jiwoo concedes. “You should come, too! Then I won’t be totally alone.”

Jungeun chews the inside of her lip. “Uh, I’ll pass. I don’t wanna crash.”

“One more person will be fine,” Jiwoo reasons. “Besides, it’s a public venue! It’s your right to be there!”

“I’m good, really. I’m pretty tired. Also, pubs aren’t exactly my scene,” Jungeun says quickly.

Jiwoo supposes that’s true, coming from the girl who likes to be in bed with the lights out by 10 pm, so she doesn’t press it further and instead focuses on finding the perfect shoes to go with her outfit.

(She ends up borrowing a pair from Heejin, who’s cursed with having the same foot size as Jiwoo, thus making her the victim of all of Jiwoo’s shoe-thievery. She prays this pair will make its way back to her, but if she’s being real, she knows it’s going to disappear into the black hole that is Jiwoo’s closet, never to be seen again.)

She pairs the strappy heels with jeans and a fuzzy sweater, changes her mind four times, and then finally is pushed out of the house by Jungeun, whose patience has reached its hard limit. She spends the entire bus ride to the pub fretting about being overdressed, then worrying about being underdressed, and then agonizing over how the outfit probably looks hideous and she’s an idiot for picking this dumb sweater. She looks like a rabbit, for fuck’s sake.

All of her thoughts disappear the moment she steps into the pub: partially because the music is loud enough that she literally can’t hear herself think, but mostly because she spots Jinsol sitting at the bar across the room and it’s like she can’t breathe anymore. Her blonde hair is free from her usual cap, flowing down her shoulders, and she looks impossibly gorgeous in an off-the-shoulder minidress. Jiwoo realizes belatedly that she’s actually never seen Jinsol standing up, and the girl is  _ tall _ . 

Jiwoo’s knees almost buckle from underneath her when Jinsol spots her back and gives her a megawatt smile. Luckily, she manages not to fall over because Jinsol beckons her over with a curl of her finger, and it’s like her body  _ has  _ to obey, shoving through the crowds of people to get to her.

“You came!” Jinsol says excitedly, pulling Jiwoo into a hug. Jiwoo’s brain kind of explodes into a stream of  _ oh my god tall pretty soft smells like jasmine tall _ , hyper aware of how Jinsol’s arm around her waist is brushing against a strip of skin that’s not quite covered by her sweater.

“I came,” she manages to squeak out. “Thanks for inviting me!”

“Of course,” Jinsol says, pushing a drink into her hand. “Here, let me introduce you to my friends!”

Jiwoo says hello shyly to Jinsol’s friends — the names all start to blend together but she knows there are two Sooyoungs, both of them intimidatingly beautiful, as well as a Vivi, Haseul, and Dahyun. She’s really nervous about meeting Jinsol’s friends, especially given that she knows nothing about them, but they’re very nice and it isn’t difficult to carry on a conversation with them.

Plus, she feels her limbs loosen with every sip of the mystery drink Jinsol gives her. In hindsight, she probably should have asked what was in it; she’s not a heavy drinker at all, and the drink is quite strong. It tastes deceptively fruity and she downs it pretty much in one go, but soon realizes that she’s a lot tipsier than she expected, drunk even, and next thing she knows she’s smoking a cigarette outside with one of the Sooyoungs while ranting about how much she hates her sociology professor.

“... and he always leaves the cursor in the middle of the screen when he’s showing us videos, oh my god, it drives me crazy.” She pauses to take an inhale, spluttering hard on the exhale. “This is  _ so  _ disgusting.”

Sooyoung gives her a side smirk, puffing on her own smoke. “You don’t do this often, do you?”

“No,” Jiwoo says with a sigh, giving up and stomping her cigarette out. “Is it obvious? I feel like I’m talking a lot more than usual. Which is already a lot.”

“You are, but it’s kind of cute,” Sooyoung allows. Then she’s approaching Jiwoo, coming confusingly close, and then she’s leaning in for a kiss and  _ oh _ , Jiwoo did not expect that. She dodges at the last moment, so Sooyoung’s lips land somewhere in her hair.

They both stare at each other for a moment, but Sooyoung bursts into giggles first, so Jiwoo supposes it’s okay to join in. Because she  _ is  _ pretty drunk and it is kind of funny.

“So I totally misread that vibe,” Sooyoung snorts.

“I’m sorry!” Jiwoo half-laughs, not knowing exactly what she’s apologizing for. “I’m flattered, really. You’re very pretty. It’s just … I kind of like someone.”

“Lucky girl,” Sooyoung says, and then crushes her smoke beneath her boot. “Let’s go back inside, it’s cold.”

The warmth inside just makes Jiwoo feel even drunker, and at this point she just wants to go home and pass out while eating junk food in bed. She also doesn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Jinsol (it’s a surprise that she hasn’t already), so she decides to call it a night and go home.

To her delight, Jinsol pulls her into another hug when she says goodbye, soft and warm and floral. Jiwoo breathes in deep, her hair tickling her nose, and says into her ear, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Jinsol says, letting go of her with a final squeeze. “Don’t have too much fun on the train without me, yeah?”

“As if,” Jiwoo snorts, then waves goodbye to the rest of Jinsol’s friends and goes to catch the bus. Jinsol’s eyes track her as she walks away, her gaze lingering on the door even after Jiwoo’s walked through it.

“She’s cute,” Sooyoung comments, sliding onto the barstool beside her and signaling to the bartender that she wants a refill. “Even though she just brutally rejected me.”

“You’ve known her for like three minutes and you’re already making moves?!” Jinsol asks, feeling more irritated than usual at her friend’s playgirl habits.

“Relax, she said she already likes someone else,” Sooyoung grumbles, downing her fresh drink in one go. “Could have fooled me, though. Is she always so flirty?”

“She’s just nice,” Jinsol says snappishly. She won’t admit it, but she knows what Sooyoung means. There are times where there’s just something about Jiwoo’s gaze or her touch, something that makes Jinsol think there’s more to what’s between them than a simple carpool agreement. But clearly that’s not the case; Jiwoo has feelings for someone else. She doesn’t know why that bothers her so much.

“Okay, sorry,” Sooyoung says with a raised eyebrow. “Wanna dance?”

Jinsol doesn’t, not particularly, but she’s not about to ruin her own party by getting in her head over nothing, so she throws herself onto the dance floor until the music drowns out all her other thoughts.

* * *

Jiwoo is in the worst mood of her life the next week, probably because she has to re-adjust all over again to waking up early and taking the train. And, if she’s honest, probably because she misses Jinsol. The girl just added a little bit of sunshine to the normalcy of Jiwoo’s everyday routine, and now that she’s gone, it feels especially gloomy.

She’s hyper-aware of the fact that she still has Jinsol’s number; she opens it up at least ten times a day, her thumb hovering over  _ send message _ , only to close the app at the last minute. She doesn’t want to seem annoying, especially because Jinsol only gave her the number for the express purpose of sending her the address to the pub. She probably isn’t expecting and doesn’t want unsolicited texts from Jiwoo.

(Secretly, Jiwoo’s just hoping Jinsol will text her first, that she’ll tell Jiwoo that she misses her as well. But of course, she doesn’t, and Jiwoo doesn’t understand how it still hurts even though she knew damn well not to expect anything.)

Come Thursday morning, she wakes up bright and early, even doing a little makeup and picking a nice outfit. But when she opens the rideshare app, Jinsol’s familiar car is nowhere in sight. She refreshes the page over and over until she’s running late for class and is forced to pick another car to take her to school, driven by a middle-aged mom who talks  _ way  _ too enthusiastically about her kids.

Jiwoo figures that maybe Jinsol’s just tired from her travels, and probably has the day off work or something. But then she doesn’t show up the next morning, or the next, and after that Jiwoo’s just resigned herself to taking the train.

She makes one last-ditch attempt at texting Jinsol, throwing away the pride that had been preventing her from doing so earlier. She writes and rewrites the text several times, finally deciding on an innocuous:  _ hey! :) you back in town? haven’t seen u on the app in a while _

A response comes back almost immediately:  _ yeah i don’t think i’ll be coming in ur direction anymore. sorry _

Jiwoo reads the text over and over, stunned into silence by the short, curt tone. Her fingers hover over the keyboard, typing and deleting what must be hundreds of times before finally deleting the conversation with Jinsol and throwing herself a full-blown pity party.

She doesn’t understand why this time hurts so bad. It’s not like any of her other crushes have been successful; she’s been rejected / ghosted / friend-zoned / crush-has-a-girlfriend-zoned / crush-is-straight-zoned more times than she can count. It never bothers her; she always bounces back, just as bright-eyed as ever. This time, all she wants to do is eat ice cream and wallow. Which she does, both in copious amounts.

“I think this is just the first time you’ve  _ really  _ liked someone,” Heejin says solemnly over a tub of rocky road. “Like, maybe more than just a little crush.”

Jiwoo sighs heavily, shoving a huge spoonful in her mouth. “And she just disappeared on me. God, I’m so stupid! Why did I ever think she cared about me, even as a friend?”

“Whatever, she’s a jerk,” Jungeun says emphatically. Although she always rolls her eyes at Jiwoo’s antics, she’s fiercely protective of the small girl.

“No she’s not,” Jiwoo sighs. 

“Yeah, she is,” Jungeun counters. “That text was grade-A asshole. I can’t believe I ever dated her, jeez.”

Both Heejin and Jiwoo’s heads snap around to look at her so fast she practically hears their spines crack. “You dated her?” Jiwoo shrieks, her pitch nearing only-dogs-can-hear-it levels.

“Yeah, so?” Jungeun says, slowly beginning to realize she’s made a mistake. “Haven’t I mentioned that before?”

“No, you just said you knew her!” Jiwoo exclaims.

Jungeun waves a hand. “Knew her, dated her, same thing. The point is, I clearly had a reason for breaking up with her, and now her true colors are showing.”

“ _ You  _ broke up with  _ her _ ?!” Jiwoo rests her head in her hands. “Oh my god, Jungeun, she probably found out I’m best friends with the girl who broke her heart and now she wants nothing to do with me!"

“Okay, it was like three months in high school, I’m sure I didn’t break her heart,” Jungeun says cynically. “Besides, how the hell would she even know that?”

“I don’t know! Why else would she stop talking to me all of a sudden?!” Jiwoo asks.

“Like I said, it’s because she’s a jerk,” Jungeun responds.

“Jungeun,  _ you’re  _ the jerk! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this whole entire time,” Jiwoo snaps. “Were you jealous or something? Is that it?”

“Jiwoo, this is ridiculous,” Jungeun snaps back. “Stop taking it out on me because your crush didn’t work out as per usual! That isn’t my fault!”

“Whoa, okay!” Heejin squeaks, trying to diffuse the tension, but it’s too late. Jiwoo stands up sharply, her lip wobbling.

“You’re right, Jungeun. This is on me,” she mutters, storming off to her bedroom and slamming the door hard behind her. She isn’t really mad, though, just overwhelmingly upset. Jungeun’s right: it’s not her fault, and Jiwoo shouldn’t take it out on her. She just wanted a scapegoat, something to make her feel less stupid for opening her hear to Jinsol so fast.

Jungeun crawls into her bed later that night like she always used to do in middle school after they fought, holding Jiwoo’s hand tightly in hers and cuddling her till the tears stop. Jiwoo’s still a little mad, but she cuddles back. Mostly, she’s just glad she hasn’t ruined this friendship, too.

* * *

The weeks go by, and Jiwoo slowly returns to her normal routine. She deletes Jinsol’s number from her phone, but not before sending one more text during a late night sob-fest:  _ do u wanna hang out sometime, maybe?  _

It goes unread and unresponded to for three days before Jiwoo’s pride finally gets the better of her and she deletes Jinsol’s number from her phone entirely. She doesn’t tell either of her friends about it; the humiliation of being so blatantly ignored is enough. She doesn’t need anyone else’s judgment or pity, since she’s doing a great job herself in both those fields.

Taking the train again every day still takes some getting used to. It’s definitely not a longer adjustment period than having to get used to spending her mornings without Jinsol, though. She really doesn’t know why it’s so hard to get over this girl, this girl that she barely knows. But while she might not know where Jinsol works or what her last name is, she knows that she’s a morning person and she drinks her coffee with three sugars, and that she had a ton of ear piercings but took them out cause her parents hated them, and that she has the kind of smile that makes it impossible not to smile back. Stuff like that isn’t so easy to just forget.

It also doesn’t help that now she seems to be spotting blondes everywhere she goes. She knows it’s probably just a passing trend inspired by some idol or the other, but it’s like the universe is seriously out to get her. The sight of a blonde head of hair is enough to get her heart racing, even if it’s the wrong shade or cut, and every time it happens she kicks herself for being so pathetic.

So when she walks into the campus store to buy more glitter pens, she thinks nothing of the way her heartbeat quickens at the sight of a blonde woman behind the counter, bent over the till. Then she straightens up, tossing her hair out of her face, and Jiwoo completely freezes up. There’s no way this is another figment of her imagination; Jinsol is really standing there, in the flesh, dressed in the school colors and a dorky visor cap.

Jiwoo very strongly considers fleeing the store and just braving her class without her precious glitter pens, but then Jinsol looks up and catches her eye and there’s no point trying to move. She feels like she’s glued to the spot, looking into those huge brown eyes.

“Jiwoo!” she exclaims, genuine surprise washing over her face. “I— sorry, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I go to school here. You know that,” Jiwoo points out, her tone guarded. “Although I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah, well … I do.” Jinsol gestures awkwardly at her uniform.

A realization hits Jiwoo, accompanied by a sharp twinge of hurt. “So when you said you weren’t going in this direction anymore, you were lying,” she says flatly.

Jinsol winces. “I… yeah,” she admits. “It wasn’t that, it’s just … the whole rideshare thing wasn’t for me anymore, I guess.”

Jiwoo snorts, incredulous. “You’re really going to stand there and lie to me again? I get it, you just didn’t want to see me. That’s fine.” Angry tears are threatening to spill now, and she forcefully shoves the pens she was holding back onto the shelf, heading back towards the direction of the door.

“Jiwoo, wait—”

Jiwoo spins around, making Jinsol stop in her tracks. “Was it something I did?” she says, her voice barely coming out above a choked whisper. “Cause you really made me feel like we were friends.”

Jinsol makes a pained noise in the back of her throat. “Jiwoo, god, no, you didn’t do anything,” she sighs, wringing her hands. “We  _ were  _ friends, honest. It’s just that I … I wanted to be more than that, I guess, and I didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

“So you thought it would be better to just totally cut me off unexplained?” Jiwoo says angrily, then stops in her tracks as Jinsol’s words catch up to her. “Wait, I’m sorry, did you just say you wanted to be more than friends?!”

Jinsol blushes furiously, looking away. “See, I didn’t wanna say anything, And I  _ know _ you have someone else, but my feelings were only getting stronger, so I just …”

“Someone else? Jinsol, what the hell are you talking about?” Jiwoo exclaims, not knowing whether to feel exasperated or ecstatic. “I’ve been crushing on  _ you  _ practically since the moment we met!”

Jinsol’s jaw drops slightly. “Wait, what? But you told Sooyoung you liked someone… oh. Wait. That was me, wasn’t it?”

Jiwoo giggles, despite herself. The stunned look on Jinsol’s face is just so funny. “Yes, it was you, idiot,” she says, but there’s no real venom to it. “And it still is, god. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me too,” Jinsol says, the worried expression melting away from her face. “I thought it would be better to just stay away from you, but it only made me miss you like crazy.”

Jiwoo’s lip is wobbling again, but this time it’s happy tears, not sad ones. “I missed you too,” she said softly, and then the two girls smile at each other, their tender gazes conveying what they’re too shy to say.

Then Jiwoo catches a glimpse of the clock hanging above Jinsol’s head and jumps slightly. “Shit, I’m going to be late for class if I don’t go now…”

Jinsol waves her hand. “Go, go! Don’t let me keep you waiting. But wait— does your class end at 2:30?”

A grin spreads across Jiwoo’s face. “Want me to meet you at 3 at our usual spot?”

“You read my mind,” Jinsol says with a smile. 

Jiwoo really has to run then — she’s  _ not  _ risking her perfect attendance — but she’s unable to shake the image of Jinsol’s heart-eyes from her mind. Her heart is practically drumming out of her chest for the entire class, and she might as well have skipped it because she’s completely unable to focus on anything the professor is saying. Her eyes are trained on the clock like lasers, and as soon as the second hand rolls around to 2:30 she’s out of her seat like a shot.

The half-hour waiting for Jinsol in the parking lot is the longest Jiwoo’s ever spent in her life, she thinks. Her legs are drumming, partially due to nerves and partially due to the slight cold. Of course, left to wander her mind goes crazy with possibilities: what if Jinsol changes her mind? What if Jiwoo’s left stranded in the parking lot till it gets too cold to bear and she has to take the train home once again? 

Her worries are quelled at 3:00 on the dot, when she spots a familiar blue car coming her way. She jumps up, giddy with excitement all of a sudden, and sliding into the passenger seat feels just as natural as breathing. As soon as she’s in the car she’s flooded with instant warmth, and she really doesn’t know if the heating is on or if it’s just the effect of Jinsol’s beaming smile.

“You came,” Jiwoo says, stupidly grinning back.

“I came,” Jinsol says, echoing their conversation from that night at the bar. Jinsol’s hand find Jiwoo’s, squeezes it momentarily across the console before she brings it back to the steering wheel and pulls out of the parking lot.

“So, are we going on our first date?” Jiwoo says, and squeals in excitement when Jinsol nods affirmatively. “Oh, yay! No offense, this is a lovely car, but I’d love to spend time with you outside of it.”

“Then you’ll  _ love  _ where we’re going,” Jinsol says with a laugh.

Fifteen minutes later, Jinsol is pulling into a drive-through movie theater.

“Seriously?!” Jiwoo exclaims, and Jinsol just laughs so hard that Jiwoo can’t help but join along. When the movie starts, Jinsol takes her hand again, linking their fingers over the glove compartment, and Jiwoo decides she’s fine never leaving this car again if it means that she gets to be with Jinsol like this, just the two of them in their own little world.

(They also end up making out in the backseat halfway through the movie, and god, Jiwoo is so glad she never has to take the train again.)


End file.
